Love Life
by pretty-good-liar
Summary: bumbleby almost smut. triggers for harassment and blood.


"So – how'd you get banned from the gym exactly?"

Yang glared at the wall, legs pulled up to her chest and an icepack against her busted lip. Her shirt was on the ground, crumpled up in a bloody heap, but most of that blood wasn't hers. Blake could smell that, which made her a little less nervous, but still, the bruises she'd been tending to made her wince.

"Let's just say when I wear a shirt that _literally _says 'I'm not here to talk', I don't appreciate guys trying to start a conversation anyway."

Blake's mouth pressed into a thin white line as she dabbed away some blood at the brawler's temple. Her partner was angry and she really didn't want to say the wrong thing.

"I didn't start the fight, if that's what you're wondering," she added when Blake kept quiet.

"I never said you did," the cat replied, lip quirking at the giant red bruise centered at the top of Yang's back like a misshapen target. "And," she added, hands resting on her partner's shoulder and her back, healing aura flaring, "I didn't say you shouldn't have."

While she'd turned from the mindless violence of the White Fang, looking at the abuse the blonde had suffered for just trying to work out in peace made her stomach curl and her claws extend more than once into her partner's bare skin. Her instincts to hurt the people who'd done this to Yang – not just her teammate, but her friend, and, maybe, a little more than that – surged like lightning.

But from the sound of things, Yang had taken care of it herself – albeit got banned from the gym in the process.

Yang managed a smile, and Blake could feel it just in the way her partner's muscles shifted as she healed her. "Glad I have your blessing."

The feline's mouth twisted as the bruises began to fade. She almost pitied the men who'd believed they could last in a fight against the blonde; Yang was literally all muscle and built like a machine. Any normal person who'd taken some of her hits would've had some cracked ribs at the very least, but as far as Blake's aura could tell, Yang was fine, made it out almost unscathed. The cat didn't dare think of the state the three men who'd done this to her were in. Comas, if she had to guess.

"You have more than that," she murmured, the pads of her fingers taking gentle liberties as they traced the contours of her partner's muscles, etched and perfected like a marble statue.

She'd had two partners who were alarmingly powerful, and it was getting increasingly worrisome how easily she'd fallen for both of them. Yang shivered under the possessive flick of claws, triggering a smirk.

"Blake," the words left in a shaky moan.

Her claws tugged through blonde hair, massaged into the brawler's scalp. "Tell me if it hurts," she murmured, kissing at the blonde's shoulder.

"Don't be stupid, Blake." Yang shuddered, muscles throbbing and eyes still flickering from purple to red, purple to red. "I haven't even showered yet."

The feline smirked, breath skirting her partner's neck. "Your shirt is off, and I'm not giving that up easily. Considering what we'll be doing anyway, showering now would be a waste."

She nipped, and her partner's head lolled back, blonde hair cushioning her against the cat's shoulder.

"My lip is a mess," Yang chuckled as hot kisses scattered her cheeks and forehead.

"The perfect excuse for me to be a little rougher. Can't let some idiots at a gym outdo me."

Yang raised an eyebrow. "We aren't even dating, Blake. Are you sure-"

"You've slept with people you weren't dating. Why am I any different?"

The brawler's skin flushed, and she sat up, twisted in Blake's bed to face her. Blake was jarred by the intensity of the blonde's gaze, her breath leaving like she'd been struck in the back.

"You're my partner."

"So? If I _wasn't _your partner would you have fucked me and moved on already?"

Yang's muscles bunched, and Blake had to look away.

"Not what I meant," the blonde replied, words slow.

The feline turned back, gaze unflinching. "Care to explain?"

"I – actually like you. A lot, honestly. I just don't wanna…move too fast."

"You make no sense to me, you know that?"

Yang smiled, sheepish. But damn, she was right. Her lip was still ragged and bloody. "Is…is that a good thing?"

Blake leaned forward, brushed her lips over the blonde's, smirked a little at the taste of blood. "Guess." Her tail, normally coiled at her waist, was lashing.

Yang rolled her eyes. "You make no sense to me, either."

"As long as you still like me after that."

"I still like you. Promise."

Yang kissed her back.


End file.
